Seeing Jennifer's hesitant expression, the Student Council President simply slid her gaze over — unhurried, unimpressed — and tucked a loose wave of dark gold hair behind her ear. Her composure slid back into place.
"Out with it," she said. "You came all the way in here; don't start dragging your feet now."
"It's just, um... it's just that..."
Under the steady gaze of her daughter's crystal-clear eyes — the kind that made you feel like your reflection was staring back at you — Jennifer finally bit her lip, dipped her head, and whispered directly into Maya's small pink ear:
"Sweetheart... you got thirty-five thousand, right? Is there any chance... maybe... you could help me buy a car?"
Of course.
Maya rubbed her ear slowly, then exhaled. Her mother had been running on fumes for so long she'd come to beg her own daughter. She looked at Jennifer's nervous, guilty expression — and gave her answer.
"Fine. The money comes in when school starts in August. I'll get you something then. Five to eight thousand, no more — you know this neighborhood doesn't hold onto nice cars."
"YES!" Jennifer shrieked, lunged forward, and peppered Maya's cheeks with rapid-fire kisses. "MY BABY! AMAZING!"
Maya's nose wrinkled. She grabbed Jennifer's head and firmly shoved it away, then seized the nearest blanket corner and scrubbed at her face.
"Stop kissing me. If you absolutely must kiss me, at least brush your teeth first. You reek of pork knuckle. My face is not a pork knuckle."
Her hand caught something wet.
She looked down. She'd pressed against Jennifer's shirt, and a damp milk stain had bloomed through the fabric.
Jennifer didn't react at all.
Maya quietly removed her hand and cleared her throat twice. "Jennifer — you've been on leave from Broadway for six months already. Take another six. Take James to Central Park once in a while; the air's better and it's not far. When the six months are up, I'll give you thirty thousand all at once. Spend it however you want."
Jennifer went still. She didn't say a word. She just pulled Maya into her arms, and one hand quietly rose to wipe the corner of her eye.
Then James's cry erupted from the next room — hungry — and Jennifer slipped away to feed him.
Maya stacked her pillow against the headboard and sat up, looking out the window. The soundproofing swallowed James's crying completely. Only the ambient glow and muffled noise of the city came through: diffuse light and indistinct sound, the texture of a New York night.
There was no complicated reason. Jennifer was her mother.
She didn't want to watch her rush back to Broadway stage roles weeks after giving birth. She didn't want little James screaming in an empty apartment because his mother had already left.
A few thousand dollars, Jennifer behind the wheel of a new car, neighbors watching with envy, Jennifer beaming — why not do it?
As for giving it all at once rather than parceling it out over time — that wasn't about trusting Jennifer to manage money wisely. It never was. Maya just didn't want to see her mother standing there again, nervous and ashamed, asking her own daughter for money a second time.
Jennifer was irresponsible — vain, often shameless, frequently clueless.
But she was still her mother.
Maya believed the same thing in both lives: feelings were like writing a book. You could give everything and still fail. But if you held back, failure was guaranteed.
Her past-life girlfriend had taken him apart thoroughly. But in this life, Maya still chose to invest fully — not in romance, which felt hopeless now, but in family. That was where she put her heart.
"Oh — wait!" She slapped her own forehead. "I almost forgot the important part!"
She shook off the detour. These things had been decided the moment she arrived in this world. No point revisiting them.
The real question: Hokage, or a boss-level missing-nin?
Maya slapped her cheeks, squared her shoulders, and pulled herself back on track.
"Open the Black Market."
With a gentle hum, a soft-featured little old man appeared in her mind's eye. To his left, a kunai gleamed with a cold light. Today's refreshed item was just a kunai. Pass.
The real focus was the two storage slots beneath the old man's feet.
Slot one: A figure holding a staff — a golden staff, in fact. Wait. Not Sun Wukong. The text printed on the back read: Third Hokage. Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Slot two: Long cascading black hair. An ornate purple bow tied at the lower back. And — she'd rather not linger on the rest. It was Orochimaru.
Master and student. Both were bloodline physique cards — equipping one would grant the same physique.
Sarutobi's card would grant five elemental chakra natures: Earth, Water, Wind, Fire, and Lightning.
Orochimaru's natural affinity was only one — Earth. On paper, the choice seemed clear.
But both cards were Gold Lv.1, and both cost exactly 20,000 Influence Points each.
The logic of the Orochimaru physique was that it would make his exclusive forbidden techniques considerably easier to master later on. That was the original design intent Jia Baoyu had built in.
After two or three years and seven or eight hundred Black Market refreshes, these two Gold items were the only worthwhile things that had ever appeared. Gold Lv.1 — the lowest rung of the Gold tier, but Gold nonetheless.
She only had enough for one.
Maya thought it over.
Then she tapped the Third Hokage.
"Purchase."
The little old man smiled and nodded. The Sarutobi card dissolved into a stream of golden light.
BANG.
It detonated inside her mind.
"AHHHH—" Maya rolled across the bed, both hands clamped over her skull. "MY HEAD — it's splitting — it's splitting open—"
Even someone as tough as she was couldn't hold back the screaming. Fortunately the room was fully soundproofed. Otherwise Jennifer would have had her in an emergency room before the hour was out.
A full thirty minutes passed.
When it ended, Maya lay on her back like a broken ragdoll — eyes vacant, her dark gold hair damp and tangled into a matted mess, all four limbs splayed helplessly. Her pink cartoon Supergirl pajamas were soaked through and clung to her skin.
After a long while, she finally breathed out.
"Bull—" she said quietly to the ceiling, "—shit. It's just a physique swap — not his whole power reserve. Was all of that really necessary?"